


if it ain't baroque don't fix it

by joong_time_rush (rare_cat_meme)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Summer, and a skater and gay, cryptid hongjoong, established yungi, eventual hongjoong/yunho/mingi, mingi cries over math, pick a struggle, vaguely acquaintances to friends to lovers, wooyoung is not physically there but he's still There, yeosang is in fine arts, yungi r chasing after hongjoong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25549819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rare_cat_meme/pseuds/joong_time_rush
Summary: “Summer season is upon us,finally, if I can say so myself. It’s time for the long days, recharge the batteries, start that project you’ve been keeping. Maybe even brave that crush you’ve been avoiding...”Yeosang zones out as his eyes fall on a familiar lump in the distance. It’s impossible to not notice him, the impeccable bleach blonde hair, the elegant silhouette, the poised walk.“If you stop staring creepily at your crush as you skate down Song-do, of course,” Yunho coughs, “Yeosang.”or Yeosang is a disaster artist gay skater pinning over a graduated student.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62
Collections: SeongSang Week 2020





	1. May

**Author's Note:**

> idk anything about math

The promising summer breeze ruffles Yeosang’s bleach burnt hair as he lazily skates on the beach walk. May has just arrived, his last essay of the term is done and the temperatures are rising. He watches the people sat on the beach who decided to bring towels and food and that are taking in the easy sun of mid spring. It’s his first time outside after finishing his second year of fine arts and for now, Yeosang only wants to vibe.

The pavement is beat up and bumpy, but he knows the path with his eyes closed, and even if his knees are constantly bruised and full of scratches, he tells himself it’s part of the aesthetic. The noise of the cars and views of the tall buildings fade away as he progresses through the sidewalk of Song-do beach. Busan is a bit of a concrete jungle, he will admit, but the closeness to the sea is the saving grace. With his phone connect to the radio, Yeosang flips through the channels until he hears the familiar jingle.

“Good afternoon, you weirdos, this is the Treasure hour, where every minute is a coin in the treasure chest of your afternoon, I’m Yunho and you’re listening to 23.3FM”

The jingle returns, Yeosang has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes (and yet, he still does), headphones in, sunglasses on and skateboard still rolling.

“Today we are going to talk about...the summertime,” Yunho’s chirpy voice echos,”If you still have exams in the next few weeks, hold on, the taste of freedom is close fellas. Consider this a little treat.”

Yeosang groans internally at the cheesy dialogue, who writes this garbage? (Yunho does, Yunho does everything). He’s proud of his friend, of course, he is fully supportive of his friend’s pirate radio project _(even if it’s supposedly illegal, but semantics)_ , but good God, why did he volunteer to be the solemn listener of Yunho’s weekly show. And it’s not like he can avoid it, he lives with the bastard. Damn Mingi, who’s dating Yunho but somehow has escaped this Hell.

“Summer season is upon us, _finally_ , if I can say so myself. It’s time for the long days, recharge the batteries, start that project you’ve been keeping. Maybe even brave that crush you’ve been avoiding...”

Yeosang zones out as his eyes fall on a familiar lump in the distance. It’s impossible to not notice him, the impeccable bleach blonde hair, the elegant silhouette, the poised walk. He skates faster, telling himself is for the sake of speed and totally not to catch up with… nevermind.

“If you stop staring creepily at your crush as you skate down Song-do, of course,” Yunho coughs, “ _Yeosang._ ” 

His cheeks feel hot and Yeosang is mildly annoyed for getting called out by Yunho when he can’t respond, but ultimately, he’s right. He slows down his pace, almost stopping, to observe what he knew he’d find at the beach.

It’s like time stops everytime he looks at him. Park Seonghwa. Just his name is melodic enough, but it could‘ve never prepared Yeosang for the first time he laid eyes on him, a mere freshmen in university, new to Busan, new to adulthood, barely out of the closet. It was day much like this, hot and sunny, by the beach. As he was exploring his new environment, fascinated by the tall buildings and way more people than he was used to, he crashed against someone.

_(“Sorry!” Yeosang had yelped, terrified. The solid body he collided with turns out to be a boy. His mind blanks as he faces possibly the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. Black ink hair, plush lips, golden skin, posture of a prince. Holy shit._

_“It’s okay,” the soft voice had reassured, a smile and he was gone with the crowd.)_

Seonghwa is sitting on the sand, shirt off, shoes neatly next to him as he takes in the sun, arms holding him up, head thrown back. _Sinful_. Next to him, lying stomach down looking vaguely dead, fully dressed, hoodie up and only recognizable by the tiny bit of blue hair peeking out, is Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s companion 9 times out of 10. It’s a mystery to him, Yunho and Mingi the nature of their relationship. Besides, Yeosang only knows him because Yunho and Mingi have made it their life goal to wine, dine and eventually marry Hongjoong - _“and worship his ass until the end of days”_ Yunho always reminds him.

“Anyway, this one’s for all the silent admirers,” Yunho’s voice brings him back to reality.

The famous instrumental of Girl From Ipanema starts playing.

With a sigh Yeosang steps off of the skateboard, having exhausted the available road. His forehead is dripping wet, the sun is hitting midday, bright and invasive. 

☄

“So,” Yunho says, face way too close, as per usual, as Yeosang dramatically lets himself fall onto their shitty 2 person couch, “how was the _beach_?” he proceeds to wiggle his brows.

Yeosang ponders for a minute if he’ll give Yunho the satisfaction, a hand moving to push his face away from him. Personal space, _will you_. Yunho is back in the same spot instantly, eyes fixated on him, like a fucking weirdo. 

“Yes, he was there,” he answers with a sigh, as Yunho _‘ohs’_ dramatically, “and so was Hongjoong. They were just hanging out.”

His brain provides him the visual of shirtless Seonghwa and he sighs dreamily, looking at the ceiling, a hand coming up to his forehead. Yunho scrunches his nose.

“Are you having gross artist thoughts about your unattainable love of your life?”

Yeosang throws a pillow at him. Yunho cackles in a crow like manner, as if he isn’t thinking the same about Hongjoong. When he mentioned moving in with an already established couple the most common response was “why do you hate yourself?”. Yeosang still thinks it’s a valid response, but Yunho and Mingi are a different breed of couple. They’re childhood friends, both vaguely of the Bro type but perhaps his favorite people on the planet, even when they act like they’re still on their honeymoon phase after four years together. Regardless of what outsiders may conspire, they’re a very functional trio - Yeosang and Yunho are the Useless Degree Holders and Mingi is their smart (boy)friend -, they live in harmony and, no matter how many times Wooyoung argues that Yeosang is unknowingly in a polyamorous relationship, they’re friends that live together. 

“Yeah and what about it?” he says, burying his face in the couch arm rest, “you’re about 3 seconds away from going on a rant about Hongjoong’s tiny hands and how you want him to step on your dick with his platform boots, you can’t judge me and my pure thoughts about how Seonghwa is the reincarnation of Renaissance idealized perfection.”

“I’ve seen your sketches,” Yunho whispers, a smug look accompanying the statement, “I know all your secrets.”

Yeosang scrunches his face in mild disgust. Yunho laughs, a slap to his thigh before he gets up from the couch.

"Wooyoung called, by the way, he's waiting for you," Yunho says as he leaves the room. He stops at the door, looking back at Yeosang with a pointed stare, "he has _tea._ "

With a silent _'oh'_ , Yeosang pulls out his phone to find a thread of messages from the one and only.

**wooyoung**

[12:27]

u will not believe

this is

unheard

there's no way

i'm

shaking

[12:43]

YEOSANg

wHERE ARE YOU

GOD

THIS IS URGENT

He barely gets to the last message before his screen notifies a call.

"God, you have the patience of a starved dog."

"Bitch, this is an emergency," Wooyoung's high pitched whine sounds from the other side of the line. Yeosang rolls his eyes, but leans back on the couch, "God, why did no one tell me southern europe is hot as fuck - and not just in temperature."

It feels like yesterday when Wooyoung first showed him the application for his year abroad in butt fuck knows where Europe, and, honestly, Yeosang hadn't really taken him seriously at the time, passing it off as another of Wooyoung’s late night spirals of delusion. Surprisingly, he pulled through, countless hours, constantly losing it over paperwork and international bureaucracies. He’s happy for Wooyoung, very proud actually, Yeosang has a feeling this may give him some direction for whatever he’s going to do after university. But that’s a conversation for another time.

“Please enlighten me on what else is hot,” he asks, making himself comfortable on the couch. Wooyoung is never one to skip over useless details.

“The devil works fast, but southern Europeans work faster. I went to party last night, a gathering for international students, bro I don’t know, some shit like that, I didn’t understand the guy, he said alcohol so I went,” Wooyoung ever so eloquently dives in, describing a long night of heavy drinking, dancing, and grossly detailed elicit activities. 

He can picture it vividly, Wooyoung sitting in a café somewhere, hungover as fuck, probably a bucket hat and sunglasses, sipping steadily from a bottle of water after escaping some poor guy’s disgusting dorm. Yeosang laughs through the tale of Wooyoung’s disastrous walk of shame in a foreign country he doesn’t speak the language and is barely aware of the geography. His heart feels a little heavy as he realizes how much he already misses Wooyoung, his best friend and the reason why he probably has not become a full shut in during his student life. There’s something about his lack of concern for what other people think that makes Yeosang trust him with his life and his deepest, darkest secrets. He may be a menace, but Yeosang wouldn’t trade him for anyone ever. 

“They’re so shameless here, it’s insane,” Wooyoung sounds vaguely scandalized.

“Sounds like you've found your people.”

There’s an offended gasp on the other end of the line.

“So, what about your boy?”

“Don’t,” whines Yeosang, “I saw him at the beach today.”

“Oh, full circle,” Wooyoung snickers, “Did you say goodbye to your graduated crush?”

Feeling like a kicked puppy, Yeosang grabs a pillow for emotional support.

“I wish you were here,” he confesses, “so we could go out and I could party away my heartbreak. But alas, you move to butt fuck knows where and leave me with the married bros.”

“Aw, Yeosangie, is this your way to tell me you miss me?” Wooyoung coos, “I’ll be back in no time, just take the married bros clubbing with you. I can get Yeonjun and Minhyuk to go with you as well...”

“It’s not the same,” Yeosang says with a pout, folding himself into a fetus position, “I’ll have to live vicariously through you for now.”

There’s a delighted cackle and they fall silent for a few seconds.

“How’s San?” Wooyoung asks quietly. Yeosang rolls his eyes and bites his knuckle, holding in a giggle. So much for being suave.

“He’s okay, he and Jongho have exams this week so they’re camping at the library.”

“Mhm,” he gets in response. _3, 2, 1,_ “Is he still mad about...”

“He was never mad Woo,” Yeosang sighs, “he’s just upset that he won’t see you for a while. Like all of us.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe okay can be our always,” Yeosang says mockingly, hoping to ease the mood. It works, Wooyoung makes a retching noise, signaling the seriousness is gone.

“Disgusting,” there’s a strange noise on the line, “shit, my phone is gonna die and I need to find my way back to the acco-” 

The line goes dead. 

☄

His first week of the summer break is completely unproductive, just like Yeosang deserves. He sleeps in everyday, paints angsty scenes, goes out once to work out with Jongho and has a few tearful wanks in the shower thinking about shirtless Seonghwa. Self-care, you know? He knows he’s being a little over dramatic, but it’s part of his artist flair, and there’s nothing wrong with indulging himself in pity party if it’s in the name of art. That is until beginning of week two, when Yunho let’s himself into his room just as Mingi leaves the apartment, blanket dragging behind him, and tucks himself into Yeosang’s side on his bed. 

“We need jobs,” he says, with absolute no conviction and Yeosang nods silently. Sure, Mingi gets to go to summer school, learn whatever advanced class he’s in and still get funded. Sadly, bills don’t pay themselves, nor do painting supplies or drinking away your sadness over never seeing your crush again. 

“Do you think having an illegal radio show looks good on your cv?” Yunho interrupts his thoughts.

“I’m sure your criminal record will sparkle,” Yeosang says without any bite as he pats Yunho’s shoulder, ”why must humans work to obtain money and access the bare necessities. Why can’t I just look pretty and paint and still get the bare necessities?”

“Technically you can, I’m sure there’s someone out there desperate enough to waste some money,” Yunho answers, “It’s never too late to find a sugar daddy.”

Yeosang sighs.

“A bitch can dream.”

☄

The library is mostly empty by the time Yeosang and Yunho stroll in, still half asleep and not much effort into looking presentable. Mingi is sitting in the far end of the room, hidden away in a corner with his three different notebooks and too many textbooks to number. As they get closer, a pile of used tissues comes into view. Mingi sniffles as Yunho back hugs him.

“Bro, I didn’t knew numbers could make you shed tears,” he whispers, voice watery and nose red, “If you told me that in freshman year, I might’ve reconsidered all of this.”

“Serves you right, who told you to be smart,” Yeosang scoffs, “we could’ve been the artsy trinity, but no, it had to be two useless degrees and their sexy friend Mingi.”

“Bitch, that’s my boyfriend,” Yunho gasps, holding Mingi tighter. The librarian that passes by shushes them. Mingi dries up his tears as they sit down next to him.

“What are you guys up to anyways?” he asks, pushing away the notebooks as if they’re something dirty - maybe they are, who knows. Yeosang and Yunho exchange a look.

“Jobs,” they answer in unison, sharing a grim expression. Mingi nods in understanding and pushes the box of tissues towards them. Yeosang thanks him in spirit.

The big clock on the library tics menacingly as Yeosang types slowly on his laptop, a reminder of the impeding time bomb of making money. Beside him, Yunho looks three seconds away from ripping his hair out, stuck on the same application for the past half hour. Mingi is laid over his notes, asleep (or maybe dead, Yeosang is never sure). His list shows a big number of CV's sent, but he knows only about 1% will get a response, and only 0.5% will _maybe_ invite him for an interview. As he finishes the last cover letter for the opening on the convenience shop two blocks down from their apartment, he gets a text from San.

 **san** [17:34]

it's done

let's get drunk and eat garbage tonight

pls i beg

i will pay

pls

pls

PLEASe

 **yeosang** [17:34]

how did it go??

fuck yea dude

mingi cried over math

 **san** [17:35]

i think ok??

who knows tho

mingi?? over MATH?

hard liquor 4 tonite

 **yeosang** [17:36] 

amen

Yunho whines loudly, burying his face in his hands and muffling his cries.

"What the fuck do they mean what I expect to earn?" he weeps, "Enough to survive?"

Yeosang pats him on the back in an attempt to comfort him.

“Don’t you miss the times when you could walk into a farm with nothing to your name and ask the owner for a job in return for food and a roof.”

"San is done with his exams and invited us over for food and booze," he offers instead. Yunho nods slowly, sighing loudly before banging his head loudly on the desk. Mingi is startled awake, wiping his head to his left and right.

"Good morning princess," Yeosang greets dryly, closing his laptop.

"I was just resting my eyes for a second," Mingi mutters, cleaning the corner of his eyes discreetly.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

☄

"And you know what she said?" San complains, a beer bottle in hand, sat on the floor with his back to the couch, "My arms bend weird! Bitch, that's my body structure, I can't change it!"

There's several gasps and offended grumbles emitted in the living of San and Jongho's living room. It's been a couple of hours since they've gathered, a couple of packs of cheap beer and generous amount of fried chicken to accompany their evening. Jongho is sat by the window, looking out wistfully without participating in the conversation - probably because he's heard it already and Yeosang is almost sure his brain is still fried from all the exams. Yunho and Mingi have taken over the couch, attached at the hip as per usual, and while Mingi has been falling in and out of conscience through the last hour (almost spilling his beer a couple of times), Yunho has been making it up by reacting exaggeratedly to San's rant about his dance coach. Yeosang is next to San, chewing on his fifth piece of chicken and nodding when appropriate. It almost feels like everything is back to normal...but not quite. He knows San's need for a night of letting loose was not only brought by the end of exam season. It's not his place though, so Yeosang sips on his beer and continues to listen. It's not like he has his own love life sorted anyway...

"God, I can't stand that bitch, I'm so happy it's over for now," San concludes, "Can't wait to pass out for three months."

"Wish that could be me," Mingi whines from his spot on Yunho's shoulder.

"At least you don't have to worry about the impending day of doom where your savings end and you need to live under a bridge," Yunho mutters bitterly, mouthful of chicken.

"At least we can be together under the bridge," Yeosang says, offering a greasy hand. Yunho takes it promptly.

"Ah, the love of my life," he blows a kiss.

The room goes silent again, the few cars that pass by and people chatting idly in the distance the only soundtrack. Surprisingly, it's Jongho who breaks the silence.

"It's gonna be okay guys," he says dreamily, a soft smile on his face, "whatever it is, where gonna get through it."

There's a quiet sniffle from the couch. Unsurprisingly, it's Mingi.

☄

Perhaps a blessing, perhaps a curse, Yeosang gets an interview request for a job the following week. It's for the convenience shop. Yunho hugs him before he leaves the apartment, promising he's gonna make it and that everything will work out. Yeosang still loses his shit when he sits in the room with the other two people that were called back.

"Kang Yeosang?" calls a young woman who seems to have skipped at least three nights of sleep.

The tiny office room feels claustrophobic and Yeosang heart rate is through the roof when she sits on the other side of the desk.

"I'll be honest with you cause it's pointless to wait," she starts. Oh fuck. "You already got the job if you want, I just need to know if you're okay with doing the 6pm to 11pm shift?"

Yeosang chokes on his spit, coughing loudly into his hand, feeling his face become hot. The woman hands him a cup of water, eyes wide, probably concerned with having someone die in her office. A few sips and deep breaths are enough to calm him down.

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Well then," she says, a smile finally gracing her lips, "welcome to the team Yeosang."

☄

"So?" Yunho asks as soon as he returns home and slides down the door, collapsing to the floor.

"I got it," Yeosang whispers, almost inclined to cry. Yunho screams, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"You're employed! No living under the bridge!"

☄

It’s just about to hit 6pm when Yeosang enters the convenience store, uniform on and definitely too close to a mental breakdown. The same woman from the interview, Nayeon, he learns, welcomes him, still just as sleep deprived, but with a kinder smile. She shows him around the tiny shop, going over his main tasks and details he should take in account. It’s not much, but Yeosang feels overwhelmed by the time he’s sitting on the cashier side of the counter.

“You’ll get the hang of it eventually,” Nayeon says with a shrug, “Not many people drop by during this shift, so you won’t be overwhelmed. Most of them are about your age or too drunk to care anyway. And if you need help, there’s someone in the office. Usually. Probably.”

 _Sounds great_. Yeosang nods as Nayeon smiles and makes her way out. 

“Aw shit,” he whispers to himself, leaning back on the chair. _Six hours to go_.

The sound system is playing some generic pop music that he tunes out as the bright daylight outside slowly fades out. He counts the bubblegum packs on the counter, mentally notes the different kinds of ramyeon they sell, almost wishes Yunho would play his radio show at this hour (almost!). It’s only over an hour in that someone actually enters the shop. It’s a group of teens, six of them, chatting loudly and that ignore Yeosang for the most part, waiting patiently as he scans all their items and thank him before leaving. He pats himself on the back, considering it a successful first trial.

A couple more people come in, just as Nayeon said, mostly teens and young adults. There’s only about thirty minutes left when the last customer of the night comes in. Yeosang is too distracted by his post-it note sketch to look up when the bell rings, simply groaning an acknowledgement instead of raising his head. Whoever enters doesn’t answer, walking past him seemingly in a rush. _Okay, Lightning Mcqueen,_ Yeosang rolls his eyes.

Only when he hears the footsteps return, he looks up. _Him_. Yeosang’s eyes widen and his mouth goes as dry as the desert as Park Seonghwa _(That Motherfucker)_ approaches him with large steps, an uncanny feline grace and a dark expression he can’t quite place.

_Thud._

Yeosang looks down at the discarded items on the counter and his brain offers him a thought. _Condoms and lube_. His brain connects the dots, disheveled clothes, his hair is out of place, his cheeks are flushed pink. He looks back up and _oh, is that a-._ Seonghwa clears his throat and Yeosang scans the items clumsily, not even having the chance to speak as a 10 000 won note is slammed on the counter.

“Keep the change,” Seonghwa mutters, a vaguely threatening tone. Outside of the shop someone urges him to hurry up.

He’s gone in an instant, like a fever dream, leaving Yeosang with an uncomfortable tightness in his trousers and a lot of material to fantasize for the remaining 20 minutes of his shift.

☄

The apartment is quiet when he enters, completely wiped out. Yunho and Mingi’s door is slightly ajar, Mingi passed out in bed, breathing quietly. Yeosang makes his way to the living room, finding Yunho immersed in a video game, headset on and completely unaware of his surroundings. Right. He beelines to the bathroom, fucks thrown out the window.

Door locked, clothes off and shower on, Yeosang finds himself under the stream of hot water. He leans his head on the tiles, water running down his back. Taking deep slow breaths, he closes his eyes, letting his imagination run free.

 _‘Keep the change’_ echoes in his mind, the sharp tone, gritted teeth. Yeosang exhales slowly as he visualizes the eyebrow raise, the heated look obscured by the hair out of place. Feeling hazy, he brings hand to his length, holding it firmly without any movement. He pictures the frazzled rhythm of Seonghwa's breath and his mind loops it in his ears. His hand starts moving, copying the erratic huffs of air. Yeosang groans faintly, the scalding water running down his back adding to the stimulus. Raising his head from the wall, he exhales deeply, hand tightening as he reaches the tip, his thumb brushing the head.

His brain offers a visual of Seonghwa's arms wrapping around him, his tan hand slapping away Yeosang's, holding his cock in a vice, borderline painful grip. _'Who said you could'_ fantasy Seonghwa growls in his ear, as he sadistically slowly moves his hand, the free one coming up to burry his fingers in Yeosang's mouth.

Fastening his pace, Yeosang brings his own hand to his mouth, moaning against the skin. The water splashing on the tiles dissolves the sounds as his breath quickens, every second consuming him whole. Condensation fills the cubicle, making Yeosang's mind even fuzzier. The heat of the steam passes of as fantasy Seonghwa's wet, sizzling skin pressed against his back. The shower head at the side of his neck becomes a hot mouth, attached to his delicate skin, biting harshly, sucking deep red bruises. The mouth in his hand comes out, snaking down to his neck, menacingly pressing his throat. The hand on his cock fastens, movements becoming sloppy.

" _Seonghwa,_ " Yeosang sighs, the lack of air making him feel drunk.

Letting go of his own neck, Yeosang moves his free hand behind him, expecting to find a solid body, but touching the cold tiles instead. The shock makes him yelp, a loud moan echoing in the bathroom as hand tightens around the head and his mind goes static for a moment.

 _'Come for me,'_ fantasy Seonghwa mutters, _'slut'_ is added as if it's being spit on the floor.

Slamming his back against the tiled wall, Yeosang groans as his insides dissolve into pleasure, his legs wobble and he slides down the cold tiles. His breath is erratic as his vision begins to clear, the steam still surrounding him as the water continues running. His thoughts are foggy and it occurs to him how real his fantasy felt.

Rising the evidence of his late night shenanigans, Yeosang gathers his things and leaves the bathroom as quietly as he can. Yunho is still in the same spot when walks past the living room. This time he notices Yeosang.

"Hey, you're back," Yunho says mid yawn as he pulls down the headset, "how was it?"

"Not too bad," Yeosang shrugs, hoping Yunho doesn't pry for more. Luckily he only nods and yawns again. "Anyway, good night."

Retreating away to his bedroom, Yeosang lies awake in the darkness, wondering what put his mind in that place.

☄

The next week is slow, Yeosang does a few more shifts, meets some of the regulars of the shop. It becomes more natural to sit and wait, Yunho makes him company, occasionally dropping by for an hour or two while he drafts another script for his radio show. Most people seem to not care about him sitting on the cashier side of the counter while Yeosang scans their items, even when he asks intrusive questions like ‘if you put out on the first date do you let them call you daddy?’ or ‘where do you draw the line when you read erotica?’.

It’s on his friday shift, Yunho next to him, diligently reading a self-help book, that Seonghwa walks in with Hongjoong in tow. It’s about to hit 10pm and they make their way to the energy drink display. Yeosang subtly kicks Yunho under the counter, sirens going off in his head.

“Ouch,” he complains, pouting as he stares at Yeosang like a kicked puppy.

Mouthing expressively, he points to the end of the shop with his chin. Yunho turns around, chair creaking loudly and it takes all of Yeosang’s will to not open a hole on the floor and jumping in. Thankfully they don’t seem to notice, deep in a hushed conversation.

“ _Shit,_ ” Yunho whispers. _Yeah, shit._

There’s no time to contemplate, because Seonghwa and Hongjoong turn around, striding towards the counter confidently. Yunho buries himself back into his book, cheeks flushing pink and Yeosang doesn’t even want to imagine what’s going on in his head.

“Evening,” Hongjoong sounds off cheerily, dropping two cans of the cheapest energy drink they carry, as well as a cup of pre-made iced coffee.

Yeosang nods, afraid to make any sound. He scans the items quickly, hands slightly shaky and the memory of the last time he encountered Seonghwa replaying in his brain. Hongjoong pays promptly, but lingers oddly, drinks in hand, a tiny sinister smile in his face as, behind him, Seonghwa’s face turns grim. 

“Umh,” he says, clearing his throat, “I’m sorry about the other night, it was rude of me.”

A deafening silence falls upon them, only the sound of the generic song playing and constant zoom of the refrigerators to be heard. Yeosang can see Yunho bite his lip in an attempt to contain his laughter.

“It’s okay,” he answers with a shrug.

There’s a curt nod in response and Hongjoong’s grin widens on his face as he locks eyes with Yunho, winking. Then they leave the store. When Yeosang deems them far enough, he turns to Yunho, finding him with his mouth wide open, speechless.

_“What the fuck.”_


	2. June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They’re like,” Seonghwa pauses, his eyes looking empty for a second as he searches for his words, “mega attractive, how do you deal with them?”
> 
> “Yunho cries every time Gabriella leaves in High School Musical 2,” he answers unfazed, “and Mingi thinks eggs are vegetables. They lost all their sex appeal in the first week of living with them.”

June rolls around slowly but surely. The heat rises, the beaches get fuller and Yeosang’s hatred for his low paying convenience shop job is set in stone. Still, he’s okay with it, it pays the bills, it builds character ( _or so his mom says..._ ) and he feels mildly motivated to finish most of his art in his free time. In his books, it’s a win. 

What is _not_ a win is the amount of times he finds himself ringing Seonghwa’s shopping, most of them featuring a cackling Hongjoong in the back. They still don’t speak any more than he’s required by his task and Yeosang is unable to look at him in the eyes knowing Seonghwa lives in his mind rent free. 

“So this is it?” asks San, a mouth full of whatever he grabbed from the nearest shelf, “the glamorous life of a cashier?”

“If you’re gonna make fun of me all night I’m going to kick you out,” Yeosang says with no threat, no one is paying him enough to give a shit.

San shrugs but sits down in silence, pulling out his phone and starting some game he’s been obsessed over the past week. Yeosang focuses back on the task at hand, correcting the grammar on Yunho’s script. The radio plays some western generic pop song he doesn’t recognize and the air con keeps him and San cool in the peak of the summer night heat. A couple of kids pop by and buy ice creams, a grandma or two stop by to escape the heat for a few moments, striking a short conversation with him and San. Eventually, his shift ends and he packs up, San in tow ready for dinner time. Before he can suggest they get take-out, his phone rings.

“Hey,” Yeosang pauses, ”Wooyoung, what’s up?”

San freezes in his spot, eyes dropping to the floor, bottom lip gripped by his teeth. 

“ _Sangie!_ ” Wooyoung’s cheery voice sounds off, _“I just met the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life!_ ”

 _Darn Europeans and their mid day drinking habits_ , thinks Yeosang, biting his tongue as he watches San pretend he can’t hear anything.

“That’s great,” he answers dryly, “listen, I’d love to talk but I’m leaving work right now. Can I call you later?”

There’s a few voices in the background of the call speaking in languages he doesn’t understand.

“ _Yeah,_ ” Wooyoung says with a hiccup, “ _I’ll text you later baby!_ ” The call dies and Yeosang sighs, an exhaustion overcoming him. San looks at him, a brow raised as if asking _‘you okay?’_. Yeosang waves him off.

“Let’s get food.”

☄

Yeosang has to remind himself not to be loud since Jongho is napping quietly on the loveseat, but Yunho is absolutely insufferable.

“If you don’t stop moving I’m going to break your foot,” Yeosang breathes out annoyed.

“It tickles,” Yunho offers with a whine, relaxing his leg on Yeosang’s lap.

“Beauty is pain,” he answers with an eye roll, returning to the task at hand.

Yunho groans, lying back down on the couch, hands covering his face as Yeosang painstakingly paints his toe nails. _‘I wanna match you!’_ he had said when he walked in on Yeosang bending himself in the weirdest of shapes to reach his feet.

"So," Yunho breaks the silence, scratching the top of his head aimlessly, "What's June gonna be like?"

Yeosang hums, nail polis brush skillfully held in his hand as he paints a large stroke of red on Yunho's big toe.

"Same old, same old, we work, we party, we sleep and repeat," he answers, swiping his thumb around Yunho's nail and observing his work. Neat.

"Boo," Yunho whines, throwing a balled up piece of paper at Yeosang's head, "I hate it here. This our last summer before we're officially real adults and you're telling me we're gonna waste it?"

The orange polish bleeds into Yunho's skin and Yeosang scoops it out with a tissue, sighing. He's right, but what are the options when you're working a minimum wage job that just about pays the bills?

"I don't know what to tell you, we have the budget of a bankrupt production company," Yeosang mutters, applying the yellow polish carefully.

Yunho sighs, hands moving down to his stomach and he watches Yeosang move through the green to the purple, wiping all the mishaps away like a professional nail artist.

"You're kinda good at this," he says, admiring the handiwork, “maybe you should consider this as a side hustle. I’m sure you’d be popular among the ladies for once.”

Yeosang pinches Yunho’s foot as retaliation.

“Why are we doing this again?” he asks, a brow raised in suspicion, as Yunho wiggles each different colored nail, eyes bolted to his feet.

“It’s pride month,” he answers hesitantly, and blushes when Yeosang stares at him in disbelief, "and maybe Hongjoong paints his nails and I think that's cool."

Yeosang whistles.

"Damn, you're whipped, couldn't be me."

Yunho is about to whack him when Jongho is startled awake from God knows what. He looks confused, scanning the room from his spot on the couch where only his head is popping out from the blanket he’s wrapped around. 

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” Yeosang greets him, “it’s a quarter to five, how early you have risen today,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jongho grumbles to himself, making no effort to move.

“Maybe you’d nap too if San kept you up all night trying to explain why he misses Wooyoung but refuses to admit it to Wooyoung, like we all can’t see it,” he huffs, his brows furrowing and a pout blooms.

Yeosang and Yunho exchange a look.

“What,” Jongho asks.

“Has he called Wooyoung?” Yeosang says cautiously.

“Not that I know of…,” Jongho looks up at the ceiling, “I think the last time they spoke was on that disastrous airport trip, you know, _when Wooyoung left._ ”

“Big oof,” Yunho adds and Yeosang can’t help but agree. “How are we gonna get those to be civil again?”

“I think we should lock them in a closet and let them figure it out,” Jongho says dreamily, “like in those teen movies, I bet it would work.”

“Yeah, except Wooyoung is in butt fuck knows where Europe ,” Yunho deadpans, “any other great ideas inspired by movies?”

Jongho sticks his tongue out in response.

☄

Sitting on the cash register, the clock marks 12 past 10pm. It’s a hot night, Yeosang has been uncomfortable sitting in a pool of his own sweat for the past 3 hours. It’s a friday night, most people are out partying and here he is, 3 gum displays to refill and no one to keep him entertained. Sighing, he starts separating the different flavours. The radio on the counter signals the familiar intro and Yeosang sighs in relief.

 _“Hello everyone, welcome to Treasure hour with Yunho,”_ the little radio next to the cash register spits out, booming through the shop. Yeosang perks up at Yunho’s voice. _“Today we look at how to solve friendship group tensions when your friends fuck each other and then refuse to talk’, I’m sure you all know someone...”_

Yeosang shakes his head, stacking up the chewing gum display, making a mental note to take Yunho a treat for doing the show during hours so he can be entertained without getting in trouble.

“Juicy...” he whispers to himself.

A high school aged kid drops an ice cream on the counter, and as Yeosang rings it he seems focused on the radio.

“Damn, he’s good, what’s the channel?” he asks.

“23.3fm,” Yeosang answers mechanically, but grins as soon as the kid leaves the store, fishing his phone from his pocket.

**yeosang**

you’ve seem to hit a nerve with the youths today

**yunho**

wdym the youths, im a youth

**yeosang**

high school kid asked for ur channel u dummy

**yunho**

B)

One hour to go, he thinks, a small smile blooming in his lips as he leans back in his seat. As Yunho goes on and on about unrequited love sometimes not being as unrequited as you actually imagined, the bell rings, signalling someone walked in.

“Hey,” Hongjoong says, a grin on his face that scares the living shit out of Yeosang. He’s wearing swimming trunks and a large hoodie, the usual eyebags a little extra dark. There’s no hesitation in his steps as he beelines to the energy drink section. “Mmh, how are you doing on this fine Friday evening Yeosang?”

Yeosang’s eyebrows raise, his mouth falls open and his brain blacks out for a second.

“How do you know my name?”

Hongjoong grins somehow _more_ wickedly, leaning his elbows on the counter as he holds his head up. He looks insane. “I know things. I also know Mingi now.”

_So that’s a thing._

“Huh,” Yeosang answers, slowly scanning the three cans of a very caffeinated drink, “he has a boyfriend, Yunho.”

“I know, I’m trying to get to know him too,” Hongjoong inspects his nails distractedly, “any suggestions on how I can do so?”

“He’s usually with Mingi or me, or, well,” he points to the radio and they both go quiet, listening to Yunho imitating Wooyoung’s voice telling them about his foreign affairs. Hongjoong’s grin turns into a soft smile.

“So are you three a thing or…?” he asks slowly. Yeosang’s eye widen.

“No, God no!” he scrunches his face in disgust, “I would never.”

Hongjoong looks surprised but shrugs in acceptance. He pays for the drink and starts walking towards the exit.

“Thank you Yeosang,” he says, a short wave with his tiny hand, “hope to see you around more often.”

With that he leaves. Yeosang feels more confused than before, it must be a fever dream.

☄

Yeosang’s 21st falls on a blessed Friday. He requests the night off at work and it’s granted, leaving him ready for a wild celebration. The boys make sure they have enough alcohol for a solid pre-game and they bully him into the hottest outfit they can fish out of his closet.

“Are you really making me wear a mesh top that was meant for halloween in freshman year?” he wonders out loud as Mingi and San heatedly debate over what pants he should go with.

“It’s hot outside, you’re hot, I don’t see why not,” Yunho shrugs, inspecting the drawers of Yeosang’s designated cosmetic cabinet. “Ah, ha!” He pulls an eyeliner pen, a hint of evil in his smile. Yeosang gulps.

After many eye pokes, a couple of drinks and one rather uncomfortable, but admittedly very flattering outfit, Yeosang is dragged to a bar. Clubbing in the summer has a completely different vibe than in the winter, or perhaps during university periods. The air feels different, the atmosphere is hotter - not just in temperature. The bar is packed, mostly young adults barely dressed, holding colorful cocktails and talking loudly in groups. 

Mingi and Yunho scatter almost immediately, already buzzed and ready to hit the dancefloor together. San and Yeosang stick together, scouting the area to find a nice spot to occupy. The music is loud and invasive, the bass making his skin vibrate. Yeosang spots a secluded corner, moving as fast as his already inhibited brain allows him to. It’s fine until he bulldozes over someone.

“Shit, sorry,” he blurts out, looking around to find who he barged against.

“It’s okay,” a familiar voice answers with a quick laugh and a pat to his shoulder. _Seonghwa_.

Yeosang freezes in his spot, mind blank as he takes in the sight. He looks fantastic, as usual, white jeans, a loose light tank top tucked into them. His arms are sculpted, it’s clear he works out in some form and it’s taking all of Yeosang’s will to simply not _bite_ him. 

Seonghwa walks off, people making space for him as if he’s Moses parting the red sea. Kinda hot if you ask Yeosang. He drops his head, hoping his long fringe will cover the heat on his cheek as his eyes zoom in Seonghwa’s butt in the tight jeans. _Damn._

“You good?” San’s voice interrupts his bubble.

“Just peachy,” Yeosang says distractedly, “let’s get a drink.” San nods, trailing behind.

One drink turns to two, three, and Yeosang loses count of how many glasses San has pushed his way. He feels giddy and with a decent dose of liquid confidence. Grabbing San’s hand, he pulls him to the dancefloor, finding Yunho and Mingi almost instantly. They’re dancing with someone else, Yeosang can see a third body between them but his eyesight is too blurry to identify who.

“Yeosang!” Yunho belts out, cheeks pink and a dopey smile on his face, “the man of the hour.”

He makes grabby hands and Yeosang reaches back, being instantly spun around. Mingi claps and squeals. They laugh together, moving to the beat carelessly. It takes at least three songs til Yeosang recognizes the new addiction to their group. 

“Fuck it up Hongjoong hyung,” Mingi screams following it with a flirty whistle as both Hongjoong and Yunho slut drop slowly to the fast paced music. Yeosang’s eyes widen, surprised at the trio. He looks around, in hopes of finding San but his eyes fall on Seonghwa instead. _When did he get so close?_

“Did Hongjoong start throwing it back already?” he asks, leaning close to Yeosang’s ear. His breath smells fruity. A chill runs down his spine. “It’s only downhill from there...”

Yeosang laughs, throwing his head back, stealing a glance at Seonghwa, who bites his lip as his eyes drop to Yeosang’s mouth to his neck. 

“He’s in good company,” he answers, “once Yunho starts twerking it only gets better.”

They lock eyes again and Seonghwa's smile turns soft.

“Can I buy you a drink then?”

Yeosang can only nod, and his gut fills up with butterflies when Seonghwa takes his hand. He loses track of time as a cup is placed in his hand.

“I heard it’s your birthday,” Seonghwa casually mentions between sips of his own drink, “happy 21st.”

Yeosang nods slowly, a little distracted by the tiny glitter particles under Seonghwa’s eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he mumbles, feeling the magnetic pull of Seonghwa’s stare on his...lips? His mouth opens but he doesn’t get to say anything when Seonghwa takes his hand and Yeosang knows he’d follow anywhere.

☄

The bathroom door is slammed open by a fairly tipsy Seonghwa, the loud music from the club plays muffled in the background. Yeosang is pulled into one of the stalls, a strong hand on his shirt pushes him against the closed door. His eyes bulge open as Seonghwa drops to his knees, eyes dark and hooded, a light sheen of sweat covering his face, making it glow in the shitty light of the bathroom. He looks like an italian renaissance Mother Mary, ethereal, a soft golden glow, except he’s sinful and sensual, nothing pure in his intentions as he unzips Yeosang’s trousers, pushing the shirt up to glue his lips just above the line of Yeosang’s underwear.

“Holy shit,” he can’t help it, sensory overload making Yeosang’s brain black out. 

Seonghwa’s hand grabs Yeosang’s, guiding him to grab his hair. Feeling experimental, Yeosang combs his fingers through the soft bleached strands, now dyed a pretty slate grey. He sobers up slightly, giving it a short but firm pull. Seonghwa gasps against Yeosang’s navel, eyes closing for a moment, a soft moan vibrating through his skin.

“Again,” he says. Yeosang pulls again, a little longer this time. 

It ignites something in Seonghwa, who pulls the underwear down, setting Yeosang’s cock free and wrapping his mouth around the tip. It’s a game of push and pull, the more Yeosang pulls, the more Seonghwa sucks, slowly sinking deeper down his length, eyes on eyes, breaths laboured and skin hot.

“Fuck,” Yeosang groans, lids shutting as he breathes heavily. Seonghwa hums around his cock, a filthy wet noise echoing in the stall as he bops his head faster. 

There’s a hand on his balls, fondling them firmly as they edge him closer and closer to release. Seonghwa let’s his cock loose from his mouth, looking absolutely ravishing with a trail of saliva and precome dripping down his chin. His hand holds Yeosang’s cock again, stroking him fast and tight, hand sliding smoothly and slicked. Panting more desperately, Yeosang nearly collapses when he feels the wet heat envelop his balls, sucking hard.

“ _Oh my god._ ”

There’s an audible ‘pop’ as Seonghwa releases them, and Yeosang whines. From his spot on the floor, he looks up at Yeosang, eyes big and pupils dilated, lips red and swollen. 

“ _Come for me pretty boy._ ”

He can’t resist the urge. His hands pull Seonghwa’s face upwards and their noses touch. Yeosang closes his eyes as he releases all over Seonghwa’s hand. His body goes limp, but there’s a firm hold on his waist that keeps him up. They take a moment to collect themselves, the muffled music mixes with their laboured breaths as Yeosang watches Seonghwa in his post orgamic haze.

Their eyes lock and there’s a soft, almost shy energy between them. Seonghwa opens his mouth to say something but someone barges into the bathroom.

“Yeosang?” Yunho’s voice sounds off, “We’re going to the next bar.”

“Aight, give me a second, I’ll meet you outside!”

Yunho offers a non-committal noise and the door closes. Yeosang glances at Seonghwa apologetically to Seonghwa, who blinks in response, followed by a nod towards the door.

“I’ll see you around,” he says mysteriously as Yeosang leaves the stall.

 _God, I hope so,_ Yeosang thinks, his finger touching his lips as he realizes they never got to kiss.

☄

A couple of days pass, Yeosang takes two days off to recover from his birthday celebrations as well as paint his yearning away. His mind replays Seonghwa’s soft gaze, the ominous words and his heart feels a little empty, like something is missing. Making his way to the kitchen in a sad morning shuffle, Yeosang's mind blanks when he enters the living room.

Living with Yunho and Mingi has always brought surreal scenarios to life, Yeosang is more or less desensitized to whatever shenanigans they might pull - or so he thought. He stops in his tracks when he spots one (1) Kim Hongjoong dead asleep in between Yunho and Mingi on the couch. They signal him to not make noise and Yeosang has to manually tell his brain to move his legs to the stove and brew himself a cup of very strong coffee cause this shit ain’t adding up.

Two cups of coffee in and a lost piece of toast he finds, Yeosang deems himself clear headed enough to walk into the living room again.

“Did you kidnap him?” he asks, just to make sure, because as much as he’d like to believe his friends are sane, he’s not sure how far they’ll go for something they really, _really_ want.

“No.” “Yes.” Yunho and Mingi answer at the same type and Yeosang has to resist the urge to rip his hair out.

“Yes and no,” Yunho says and it does absolutely nothing to answer Yeosang’s question.

“If you must know, he entered our apartment willingly,” Mingi blurts out.

“That is not reassuring at all,” Yeosang says, a hand on his head as he thinks if he knows anyone studying law that can help them, “Yunho you can’t simply take a grown adult as if they’re an abandoned kitten on the street.”

“We were hanging out yesterday and he was tired and I suggested we came here, he said yes, but as soon as he sat on the couch he fell asleep,” Yunho rushes out in one breath, “, don’t worry about it.”

Hongjoong chooses that moment to snore loudly, startling them. Yunho gives him a loving stare, tucking him more comfortably, as he leans his head into Yunho’s shoulder. Is this what being in love is like? 

“I don’t think he has slept for like 48 hours, he was bound to crash,” Mingi explains as matter of factly, “we were just making sure he’d be safe!”

Yeosang sighs deeply, taking a seat on the loveseat as he watches the three of them.

“Fine, just make sure he doesn’t die in our apartment.” 

Distracting himself with some household chores, Yeosang almost forgets that his crush’s roommate is sleeping in the same apartment he is, in between his roommates. He answers some texts from Wooyoung, who sent him a collection of pretty landscapes and five dogs he met on his walks, he calls his sister to catch up and answers one important email that was ut of his rotting in his inbox. It’s been quiet for a few hours when Yeosang emerges oroom to find the Holy Trinity in a hushed discussion. He coughs to call their attention. Six pairs of eyes stare back at him.

“Yeosang, good to see you again,” Hongjoong says yawn, a slow nod towards him. He leans back against Yunho, head on his shoulder, his tiny hand over Mingi’s thigh.

☄

“ _Hey bestie_ ,” Wooyoung’s voice sounds off from Yeosang’s phone. His face is a little pixelated but the grin is still as recognizable as in person. Yeosang almost feels like crying, the pull at his heart, the weight of how much he actually misses Wooyoung starting to settle in. “ _Isn’t it like after midnight for you?_ ”

“Yeah, I got off work like half an hour ago,” he says, leaning back on his chair. Wooyoung makes an acknowledgement noise, “so, how’s the western world?”

“ _Scorching hot, as usual. I had a really cool lecture yesterday though,_ ” Wooyoung retells it with all the details, a few detours off of the main plot, but Yeosang listens attentively, picturing the entire story as a dramatic telenovela. He laughs fondly at all the gruesome gossip Wooyoung seems to have on everyone. “ _So what about you, any other spicy bathroom hook ups with Mr. Pretty face?_ ”

“No,” he answers, cheeks heating up and a vague regret in retelling the tale to Wooyoung. “I haven’t seen him since, actually. Mingi and Yunho scored his roommate though.”

Wooyoung gasps dramatically, his hand appearing on screen to fan him.

“ _No way!_ ”

“Yeah way, I found the three of them on the couch like two mornings ago.”

“ _Good on them_ ,” Wooyoung says with an expression that betrays his soft tone. “ _So now it’s only missing you...you did the nasty, his roommate has entered the chat, what are you waiting for?_ ”

Yeosang pauses, staring out his window. What is he waiting for? In truth, he’s not sure, their bathroom affair was heated but short and Seonghwa didn’t really appear in his life again and gave Yeosang the chance to ask him out. He sighs, shoulders heavy.

“I think I lost my time,” he answers as honestly as he can. “What’s your excuse?”

“ _Wha-_ ”

“Wooyoung.”

“ _I don’t know what you’re talking about_.”

“So you don’t know of one Choi San who confessed his feelings for you and you ran away to buttfuck knows where?” Yeosang says dismissively, observing his nails. Wooyoung splutters, a gargled noise echoing on the call.

“ _What was I supposed to do?! We were at the airport_ ,” he whines.

“Maybe not ignore him, but who am I to know...”

They both go silent, letting the words sink in for a second. Yeosang wonders if he too should not ignore his feeble connection to Seonghwa. Wooyoung is the first to break.

“ _How was I supposed to tell him I like him too as I was leaving for 4 months?_ ” his voice is quiet and soft, almost a whisper, “ _I couldn’t do that to him...give him hope, make him wait for so long, it’s not fair Yeosang._ ”

He nods slowly in agreement.

“I understand,” he says slowly, “but still. You owe him an answer. A _proper_ one.”

Wooyoung hums in what seems to be agreement.

“ _I’ll do it if you do it._ ”

Yeosang laughs dryly.

“Deal.”

☄

The streets of Song-do just past 3am midweek hit differently. It’s warm outside, only a slight breezy floating around and Yeosang feels a hint of relief as the salty smell of the waves invades his nose. The sea is calm and soothing, the sand is slightly humid to the touch as he sits down and just observes the easy roll of the water, the foam puffing off as it dries up. Yeosang watches it all in silence, letting his brain empty itself and simply take in the view and the sounds. It’s grounding, it eases the dread in his chest and for the first time in weeks he takes a full breath.

Behind him there’s a faint sound of steps on sand that startles him from his meditation session.

“Hey,” a soft familiar voice rings behind him.

Yeosang turns around to find Seonghwa.

“Hi,” he answers just as softly, offering the space next to him.

Seonghwa takes the offer, spreading his legs on the sand and sighing contently. He looks tired, Yeosang notes, his usual cool, elegant vibe turned disheveled. His hair is messy and he’s wearing what are probably pajamas - but then again, so is Yeosang - and a pair of very beat up sneakers. Hongjoong’s words ring in his ear, ‘as unapproachable he seems to be, it’s so far from the truth, he’s like a graceful house cat who loses it for a few ear scratches’.

“Can’t sleep either?” Seonghwa asks, one of his hands playing with the sand mindlessly.

“Some emotional dread, typical,” Yeosang jokes,”summer season, you know.”

Seonghwa responds with a chuckle.

“God, same.”

Silence falls again, a comfortable one. This time though, thoughts spill into Yeosang’s brain and he can’t help but indulge himself. He thinks about the last time he saw Seonghwa, on his knees at the dingy bathroom of the club, taking him in his mouth with dark eyes and a nasty tongue. Seems so far off from the guy sitting next to him now. 

“Hey,” Seonghwa interrupts his thoughts, “do you wanna grab a bite? I’m starving.”

Yeosang faces him, a little shocked at the invite. He probably takes too long to answer, cause Seonghwa’s expression goes from relaxed to mildly concerned.

“Yeah, of course,” he answers, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, but he doesn’t regret it for a second when a toothy smile blooms on Seonghwa’s face.

“My treat.”

☄

The bootleg Mcdonald’s they find themselves in is barely populated at the early hours of the morning. The underpaid cashier barely spares them a glance as they order, handing them the food with the enthusiasm of a disgruntled house cat. Yeosang doesn’t blame her. Finding a spot outside, they end up sitting by a staircase, chips and burgers on their laps, an assortment of different sauces all over the place Seonghwa promises that are good all together. Yeosang is surprised to find he’s a messy eater, gobbling down food like he’s a human trash can. It’s actually impressive. There’s several dots of sauce on his face, but Yeosang’s eyes zero in on the corner of his mouth.

“What?” Seonghwa asks, a touch uncomfortable by the intense stare down.

“Nothing, you just-” Yeosang says as he reaches with his pointer finger, swiping on the corner of Seonghwa’s mouth. He doesn’t think about it twice, bringing it to his own.

Seonghwa blinks once, twice, and then snorts, eyes sparkling just the tiniest bit at Yeosang. 

“So,” he says after they eat quietly for a while, “I have a question about your roommates.”

“Okay, shoot,” Yeosang offers, expecting some rundown on why they are good enough for Hongjoong or something like that.

“They’re like,” Seonghwa pauses, his eyes looking empty for a second as he searches for his words, “mega attractive, how do you deal with them?”

“Yunho cries every time Gabriella leaves in High School Musical 2,” he answers unfazed, “and Mingi thinks eggs are vegetables. They lost all their sex appeal in the first week of living with them.”

Seonghwa chokes on his drink at Yeosang’s stoic words, falling into deep laughter. He whips his head back, chuckling loudly and Yeosang’s eyes fall on the defined curve on his jawline, the tan skin, the evenly bleached blonde hair and he smiles to himself, glad to have provided this gorgeous creature entertainment. He’s so fucking whipped.

“Eggs!” Seonghwa repeats, slapping Yeonsang’s thigh with tears in his eyes.

“Eggs,” Yeosang echos, unable to not grin.

“And Hongjoong is into that...” Seonghwa grimaces, “I can’t believe they want to add a cryptid coffee addict that only babbles nonsense and likes to be pet like a cat to their relationship. I mean great on them, I’m just surprised,” he says, taking a sip from his soda, “maybe even a little impressed.”

Yeosang snorts, scrunching his face as he remembers the three of them perched on the couch a few days ago. _Dorks_. When he looks up again he finds Seonghwa observing him with a soft gaze, a smile on his face and a light pink covering his cheeks. 

“Each to their own, I guess,” he answers softly, with a short shrug. Seonghwa nods and they eat silently.

“What about you, what’s your _‘gotta go my own way’_ moment?” Seonghwa asks after a while.

Yeosang remains quiet, chewing slowly as he considers what to answer. There seems to be no judgement on Seonghwa’s part, his cheeks puffed and full as he continues eating, the streetlight glow highlighting a cuter, almost goofy side of his features that Yeosang hadn’t seen before. 

“Mine is that I learn every Twice choreography as soon as it comes out,” a hint of nervousness peeks thru, but Seonghwa carries it through, “also that I really _really_ like Chunga and Hongjoong will never let me live down when I cried waiting for her music video.”

 _Oh._ Yeosang blinks slowly, letting the words sink in, picturing Seonghwa with tears in his eyes refreshing a youtube page anxiously. The thought makes him smile, a short giggle escaping his throat. It doesn’t register in his mind why Seonghwa looks so terrified, until Yeosang realizes he’s probably thinking he’s laughing _at_ him.

“That’s so cute,” he says quickly, cheeks flushing pink, “I’d trade Yunho for you any day.”

Seonghwa's expression goes blank for a second and then he laughs, face scrunching, his laugh loud and voice cracking as he doubles over himself. Yeosang almost doesn’t recognize him, no traces of the elegant, careful, pristine figure he’s used to observing in the distance. Something in his gut twists, a simmering warmth that boils pleasantly as he notices the slow but certain change in his perspective of Seonghwa. He’s not unachievable, not cold and statuesque. He’s just Seonghwa.

Seonghwa walks him home, an easy banter between the two of them as the sun rises in the distance. They walk side by side, hands bumping into each other occasionally, a nervous laugh between them every time.

“Thank you for the meal and the conversation,” Yeosang says earnestly, unable to hold back a smile. He has the key in his door, ready to walk in, but something holds him back.

Seonghwa waves him off, but his puffed cheeks betray him.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.”

No one moves for a moment, a brief tension in the air as Yeosang thinks about Wooyoung’s words.

“Hey,” he says a little too loudly, “do you wanna go out sometime?”

Seonghwa looks taken aback, head leaning sideways and a toothy grin spreads on his lips.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeeeeeeeeeh
> 
> id say sorry for the delay but im a uni student :((  
> one more chapter hehehe

**Author's Note:**

> hello  
> so uh yeah that happened, but guess what  
> theres more ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/ridikunlous)


End file.
